By Eli Lehrer
Thursday, April 21, 2016
Harriet Tubman is a good choice to replace Andrew Jackson
on the front of the $20 bill. Jackson, the first Democratic president, is
exactly the sort of overheated, pompous populist that has tended to screw up
the American political system. His demotion to the back of the bill is long
overdue.
But before we act to raise Tubman’s stature to the point
that she is memorialized on commonly used currency, it behooves Americans to
understand her role in our common history. It’s a lot more interesting than the
description of her as an “Underground Railroad conductor” that appears in my
son’s elementary-school materials and many popular accounts of her life.
In fact, Harriett Tubman was a gun-toting, Jesus-loving
spy who blazed the way for women to play a significant role in military and
political affairs.
Indeed, her work on the Underground Railroad was mostly a
prelude to her real achievements. Born into slavery as Araminta Ross, Tubman
knew the slave system’s inhumanity firsthand: She experienced the savage
beatings and family destruction that were par for the course. She eventually
escaped and, like most who fled, freed herself largely by her own wits.
She later went back south — always carrying a gun she
wasn’t afraid to use — to help guide her own family and many others out of the
plantations. The courage and will that this took is difficult to fathom. But
she’s really a secondary figure in the history of the Underground Railroad.
Historians estimate that she led 300 or so people to freedom, while figures
like William Sill and Levi Coffin helped bring freedom to thousands.
This isn’t to say that Tubman is a minor figure. To the
contrary, what she did during the Civil War secures her an important place in
history. The Union, fighting a war mostly on southern soil, desperately needed
good intelligence. Tubman’s exploits on the Underground Railroad, quick wits,
mastery of stealth, knowledge of local geography, and personal bravery made her
a near-perfect scout and spy. She could often “hide” in plain sight, since
white-supremacist southerners probably were not inclined to consider a small
African-American woman a threat.
Her quasi-memoir Scenes
in the Life of Harriet Tubman (told to Sarah Bradford and written in the
third person) explains how things worked. While African Americans were
suspicious — often rightly — of Union soldiers, they were willing to trust
Tubman. “To Harriet they would tell anything,” Bradford writes. “It became
quite important that she should accompany expeditions going up the rivers, or
into unexplored parts of the country, to control and get information from those
whom they took with them as guides.”
Tubman was one of the most valuable field-intelligence
assets the Union Army had. She had hundreds of intelligence contacts and could
establish new ones — particularly among African Americans — when nobody else
could.
During one of her scouting missions along the Combahee
River, she became the first woman and one of the first African Americans to
command a significant number of U.S. troops in combat. The raid she organized
and helped to command freed far more enslaved people than her decades of work
on the Underground Railroad. She also was a strong advocate of allowing African
Americans into the Union Army. She knew Robert Gould Shaw, who commanded the
almost entirely African-American 54th Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry regiment
— the unit at the center of the 1989 film Glory.
A (probably apocryphal) legend even has it that she cooked his last meal before
the heroic assault in which he and much of his regiment perished.
In her “retirement” — she never really stopped working
until she became ill at the very end of her life — Tubman remained a political
presence. A friend of Secretary of State William H. Seward, she settled in his
hometown of Auburn, N.Y., on land he sold her. There, she helped to build both
a church (she was devoutly religious) and a privately run retirement home. She
also fought for women’s suffrage, supported Republican politicians, and
advocated for fair treatment of black Civil War veterans, which they rarely
received.
In short, Harriet Tubman was a black, Republican,
gun-toting, veterans’ activist, with ninja-like spy skills and strong Christian
beliefs. She probably wouldn’t have an ounce of patience for the obtuse
posturing of some of the tenured radicals hanging around Ivy League faculty
lounges. But does she deserve a place on our money? Hell yeah.
No comments:
Post a Comment